


Fair

by TheNarator



Series: Honor Among Thieves [3]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Implied Past Child Abuse, M/M, cisco as a member of the snart gang, don't let the fluff fool you they're all still evil, evil!cisco, implied future mind control, lisa may possibly want to watch, mentions of hartmon, relationships of dubious healthiness, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 09:19:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6148862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNarator/pseuds/TheNarator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cisco builds Lisa a new toy, and then they go ice skating. It's eviler than it sounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fair

**Author's Note:**

> i don't even know what i'm doing anymore. here have some fluff, tune in next time for more angsty angstmuffins.

Lisa Snart had never liked the word “boyfriend.” It was such a loaded term, when you thought about it; it implied a lot of things, most of which she wouldn’t have called herself comfortable with. It suggested intimacy, and commitment, and a lot of other painfully _normal_  things that career criminals just didn’t have time for. More than anything though it implied a level of trust, and trust meant exposing yourself to someone when you were feeling weak.

Lisa Snart _hated_  feeling weak.

The word “boytoy” worked much better for her. “Boytoy” was not a word one used when referring to an equal partner in a relationship; there was no corresponding term, there was Lisa and then there was Lisa’s plaything. It put her in control, in a position of power and ownership, and more than anything it did not require her to feel weak. By the very definition of the relationship she was always the strong one. It was her boytoy who had to feel vulnerable and exposed, not her.

One of the things she adored about Cisco Ramon was that he was perfectly fine with not being her boyfriend. The label “boytoy” worked just fine for him, hell she could have called him her bitch and it would have worked just fine for him, although she thought Len might have taken exception to it. Cisco didn’t care, he just wanted to be _hers_ , whatever it was she needed him to be. He was her partner when she needed someone to watch her back. He was her tech geek when she needed new toys for her spree killer activity playset. He was her lover when she needed someone to go down on her at two in the morning before she could sleep.

There was a limit to how many of those roles he could fill while he was injured, but there was nothing wrong with his hands; the minute he could stand to be awake on fewer pain meds than were required to take down an elephant he resumed his never-ending task of supplying her with new Black Widow Barbie accessories.

“Knock knock,” she called, leaning casually against the doorway to his bedroom.

“Hey!” he replied, perking up like an eager puppy at the sound of her voice. He was using a little breakfast-in-bed tray as a makeshift work table, soldering iron in hand and a heavy pair of protective goggles shielding his eyes. Their reflective glass, coupled with the way they seemed a bit too big for his face, made him look rather amusingly deranged.

“You could at least _pretend_ to be resting,” she pointed out, tone more teasing than anything. His nurse was off somewhere getting some sleep, so she sauntered in and perched herself artfully over the vacant chair at his bedside.

Cisco shook his head. “Couldn’t sleep,” he explained, lifting up his goggles to perch them on his head, “got the idea for this in a dream, had to make it real before I forgot it.”

“What is it?” she asked, leaning in to peer at the pile of tiny mechanical parts strewn over the tray, along with a gold and crystal necklace he was halfway through assembling.

Cisco grinned, that lovely manic grin he’d acquired since joining their little family. She had the suspicion that he’d first developed it to impress her, but since then he seemed to have grown rather fond of it. The look suited him.

With a few practice movements Cisco clicked the pieces of the necklace into place.

“Have a look,” he instructed cryptically, holding it out to her as a salesman at a jewelry store might display their most expensive piece.

It was bigger than any of her exploding jewelry, the type of necklace rich people would call a “conversation piece.” As he held it up for her to see she noticed a series of tiny switches along both sides, cleverly disguised as as an engraved border.

“Multifunctional,” she guessed, and Cisco nodded. “Probably doesn’t explode then. Another hypno-jewel?”

“Something alone those lines,” he confirmed. “I based it off Rainbow Raider’s powers. Each switch corresponds to a different color, and each color elicits a different emotion in the target.”

“What kind of emotions are we talking here?” Lisa wanted to know.

“Red’s for aggression,” he explained, indicating various switches as he spoke, “but you already knew that. Blue’s the traditional compliance and susceptibility to suggestion. White is for stunned or dazed, pretty much blind and immobile, and pink is for lust.”

He winked. “Not that you need that, of course.”

“Still, you never know when you’re going to meet a Kinsey-6,” she pointed out.

“Good point,” he conceded. “Now you can bend even Pied Piper to your will.”

She grinned, imagining Hartley on his knees, head tilted back in supplication and lips parted and begging for a kiss. She’d liked the idea of Piper on his knees ever since she’d found out he was hot for her boytoy. Although she had to admit there was something appealing about the idea of watching his smart mouth choke on Cisco’s cock, she didn’t like people touching what was hers.

Not without her permission anyway.

Cisco unclasped the necklace and held it up shyly. Lisa moved to perch on the end of the bed, then turned her back on him and swept her long hair off her neck, allowing him to carefully fasten the necklace around her throat. The weight of it felt good, like a strange kind of armor, and she looked down at it as she turned back to Cisco, touching it gently with one finger.

“It’s beautiful,” she praised, then leaned in and kissed Cisco hard and deep.

He leaned toward her in turn so she didn’t have to crane her neck so far, but the more he bent forward the more he put pressure on the places where his stitches had been removed only recently. Eventually he pulled away, gasping in pain instead of panting with desire, which left Lisa wholly unsatisfied with her work.

“Shh,” she soothed, pushing him back with one hand as the other smoothed down his hair. “Rest a minute. Get your strength back, you’re going to need it.”

“Why?” he asked, frowning in confusion. “What are we doing?”

Lisa smirked. “Your nurse says you need physical therapy,” she explained coyly.

“I don’t think she’s going to give us a referral,” Cisco replied with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” Lisa asked in mock offense. “You don’t think I’m perfectly capable of helping you get . . . physical?”

***

“I don’t think this is what she meant by physical therapy,” Cisco protested lightly as Lisa helped him lace up his ice skates.

“It really isn’t,” the nurse piped up, from where she was handcuffed to one of the chairs beside the rink.

The place was deserted, the facility having been closed for the summer, but that just meant it had been easy to break into. It didn’t take Cisco long to work out how to get the ice maker up and running, and soon enough they had a private ice skating rink they could use for as long as they chose.

“Ice,” grumbled Mick, huddling in his fireman’s jacket. “Ice _everywhere.”_

”Don’t worry,” said Cisco cheerfully, “when we’re done we can cover the ice in a layer of kerosene and light the whole thing on fire!”

That caused Mick to brighten considerably, and he went back to playing with his lighter.

Surprisingly Len had also commandeered a pair of skates from the rental stock and was preparing to go out onto the ice with them. For all the ice was something of a motif in their family it was clear that Lisa was the skater, but anyone who knew Len well knew that he could be almost as graceful as her when he wanted to be. He generally preferred to swagger about with gun at the ready, but he could hood-slide with the best of them and his unshakable cool meant that there was no stumble he couldn’t play off like he’d meant to do it all along.

Lisa though, Lisa was something else. There was a reason he’d called her Golden Glider: she moved like water, like wind, like a force of nature that ebbed and flowed with the same power and inevitability as the tides. She didn’t seem to move by conscious effort, but rather the world seemed to move around her, like she was bending space-time with her will alone. She skated as though the ice itself had come alive to carry her, as though some magnetic force beneath their feet pulled her into position and kept her upright as she danced on a knife’s edge. She made wide sweeping turns and circles, then stopped and spun in place like a top, extending one leg to balance like a ballerina on the point of a single blade. Had she been wearing the skates he’d designed she’d be spraying ice from the sole of her foot to coat the world around her in glittery frost, but here the action was purely for its own sake, for her enjoyment and his own.

She was beautiful.

Her lust for figure skating temporarily sated, Lisa glided over to where Cisco was still sitting on the sidelines.

“What?” she asked, one eyebrow raised when she caught sight of his expression.

“You’re beautiful,” he told her, in perfect sincerity.

Lisa preened. “Really?” she said in false modesty. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You are,” Cisco assured her. “You’re like a Disney Princess out there.”

“Flattery won’t get you out of this,” she warned him, then held out both hands for his.

With Lisa’s help Cisco managed to get his feet under him on the ice. Immediately Len skated up on his other side and they flanked him as he made his first tentative lap around the rink. He was a bit shaky at first, but with their help he found something of a rhythm, and on the next lap he felt steady enough to try it with just Lisa holding his hand.

“You’re not bad,” she noted with just a hint of pride during their third lap.

“Thanks,” he replied, trying not to wobble. Skating was one thing; skating and talking at the same time was quite another. “I had a good teacher.”

“You’re smart, Cisco,” she told him, and she had that same quality to her voice that Len used when he was telling Cisco how valuable he was to the team: sympathetic but not pitying, reassuring without being patronizing. Kind.

“You watch me,” she continued, “I see you. You watch, and you learn, and then you do it yourself.”

“That’s not why I watch you,” Cisco protested lightly.

“I know,” she sighed theatrically, “I’m just too pretty for you to take your eyes off me.”

“That’s not the reason either,” he corrected, then grinned when she shot him a confused pout. “You’re talented, Lisa. The way you move is amazing. In another life you could have been a professional skater.”

“I almost was,” she confessed, and when she glanced over at him her eyes had a strange look of nostalgia in them. “When me and Lenny were little dad always used to get drunk on Christmas, so mom would take us to an ice show Christmas Day. I’d memorize one of the routines and then I’d learn to do it when we went skating.”

She looked away, and Cisco could tell she was trying to compose herself.

“I tried showing a few of them to Dad,” she said at last, with the vicious smile she reserved for talking about her father. “He never liked them.”

Cisco swallowed. He didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t know what Lisa needed him to say. There was nothing he could do now to reverse that damage; nothing would take back her father’s words and he’d already told her he loved her skating. He knew that even confiding in him this way must have been hard for her.

“Thank you,” he said at last, in a small voice. “For telling me that, I mean. Thank you for trusting me.”

When Lisa looked at him next she was wearing a strange expression that he couldn’t quite place. They skated in silence for a while, picking up a bit more speed as Cisco gained confidence, but remaining firmly hand in hand.

“Well,” Lisa finally managed, forcing her tone into an entirely unconvincing laugh, “that _is_  the kind of thing your boyfriend should know about you, right?”

“Boyfriend?” Cisco repeated incredulously. Lisa had never used that word before. Did that mean-

“Hey now,” Len interrupted his thoughts by skating silently up on his other side, making him jolt a little and almost lose his footing so that Len had to grab his other arm before he could finish his sentence. “Should I be jealous?” he asked, once Cisco was steady again.

“Don’t worry Lenny,” Lisa told him in a voice of mock concern, “we still have an open relationship.”

Well, that answered that question. Still, it left Len’s plans to fuck him on a pile of money on the table. So there was that.

At some point Mick had wandered off to find some kerosene, and he returned triumphantly right around the time that Cisco was reaching the point where he was too tired to continue. Setting ice itself on fire seemed to give him a special kind of thrill, and he stood there watching it burn until the very last moment when it started to spread to the walls. The nurse looked on in dismay as they finished watching ice rink burn to the ground from outside on the street, although her lost and hopeless expression faded somewhat when Len uncuffed her.

“Wha . . .” she gazed at her own bare wrists in wonderment.

“You’re free to go,” Len told her dismissively. “I think we can take it from here.”

“R-really?” she asked in disbelief. “I can just . . . go?”

Len shrugged. “It’s not as if the cops don’t know who we are,” he pointed out, “and anyway, Psychotech’s taken a shine to you. He’d get mad if I killed you now.”

The girl looked between Len and Cisco, like she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure what, then settled for simply turning and running away.

“Thank you,” Cisco whispered to Lisa as they piled into the van they generally used when they were pretending to be normal.

“For what?” she asked, as though supremely unconcerned.

Cisco grinned, knowing that she wasn’t going to admit to what had happened in there for some time yet. “For taking me skating.”

“Well,” Lisa shrugged in mock indifference, “you did build my skates. Seems fitting, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Cisco answered, leaning up to peck a kiss against her lips. “That works.”

***

“So, Roberta,” said Dr. Snow, holding out a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

“Bobbi,” corrected the young nurse, gratefully accepting the drink and taking a small sip. “It’s been a while since someone called me by my name.”

“Bobbi, then,” said the Flash.

Honestly, of all the things that had happened to her in the last few weeks, the fact that she was talking to the Flash was the hardest to wrap her head around.

“Tell us what happened,” Flash prompted gently.

Bobbi took a deep breath. “The day started out so normal,” she began, smiling weakly. “Everything was quiet until mid-afternoon. Then, Captain Cold and Golden Glider came in.”

“Were they alone?” Flash wanted to know.

“At first,” Bobbi nodded. “They told us to shut the place down. Glider did . . . something, to all the orderlies. They sealed all the exists but one, and then Heatwave came in and they sealed that one up too.”

“Was Rory the one who was injured?” Dr. Snow asked.

Bobbi shook her head. “No, there was someone else, someone I hadn’t seen on the news before. I mean, I’d heard that the gang had four members now, but I guess they never caught him on camera. Heatwave carried him in; he had multiple gunshot wounds to the abdomen, and Captain Cold ordered us to treat him.”

Flash and Dr. Snow looked at each other grimly. “Did they give a name?” Flash inquired.

“They told us to put down ‘Psychotech’ on the chart,” Bobbi told him.

“Cisco,” breathed Dr. Snow, looking distraught.

Flash put a hand on her shoulder, then turned his attention back to Bobbi. “Why did they abduct you?” 

“Psychotech needed post-op,” she explained. “They held me for three weeks, until it was safe to take his stitches out. Then they let me go.”

“Did Cis- . . . Psychotech, hurt anyone?” Dr. Snow asked, a little desperately.

Bobbi hesitated. Psychotech _had_  said that the Flash had betrayed him, but she could see no reason to lie. He’d protected her, but of everyone who had been there that day he had the highest body count.

“Yes,” she answered finally. “He shot the ER Director with some kind of high tech weapon thing. She . . . blew up, and two other doctors were caught in the explosion.”

Dr. Snow stood up, turned and walked away, covering her mouth with one hand. Flash went after her, catching her by the shoulder and gently pulling her into his arms. She leaned her head on his chest, sniffling.

“He’s out of control, Caitlin,” Flash whispered into her hair.

“He’s still Cisco!” she shouted, shoving at his chest and turning away, unable to suppress a little sob.

“We can’t just ignore this,” Flash insisted, though he kept his voice soft. “What we did-”

“What did you do?” Bobbi piped up.

Both of them turned to look at her in surprise, as though they’d forgotten that she was there.

“What?” Flash furrowed his brow in confusion.

“What did you do to him?” Bobbi clarified. “He said you . . . betrayed him.”

Flash looked down, but didn’t answer her.

“He said you left him for dead,” she pressed, tone a little harsher. Dr. Snow’s tears told her a lot; Psychotech hadn’t just been rationalizing when he told her he’d once been normal. A law abiding citizen. A hero.

“I know this is my fault,” Flash said, addressing both Dr. Snow and Bobbi. “I did this, and everything that’s happening now is my responsibility. I’m going to make this right.”

Here he turned his attention to Dr. Snow. “We’re going to get Cisco back,” he told her firmly. “I promise.”

Maybe it was a dumb decision, Bobbi would later reflect, but the sincerity in the Flash’s tone made the choice for her. There was a notepad and a handful of pens on a nearby worktable, and with trembling fingers she used them to write down the address of the manor where the Snart gang were holed up.

“If you’re serious,” she interrupted the Flash in his continued reassurance of Dr. Snow, “you’re going to need this.”

**Author's Note:**

> the plot thickens . . .
> 
> special thanks to checkerboardom for giving me the idea of lisa and cisco ice skating, and for bobbi's name.


End file.
